


Parched

by Morgana



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fiona thinks about the changes that are coming in her life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parched

Frank was dying. It didn't seem possible. Fiona sat at the kitchen table long after the party was over and everyone had gone to bed, watching the snow fall and thinking about her father. He'd looked so small in that hospital gown, pale and fragile, not like Frank at all.  
  
Stop drinking or die, the doctor said. Which meant that Frank was gonna die. He wouldn't stop drinking; there was no question about that. He hadn't stopped drinking to take care of Monica, he hadn't stopped drinking to take care of any of them, and she highly doubted he'd stop drinking to take care of himself.   
  
Besides, even if he tried, she didn't think he'd be able to do it.  
  
He'd gone dry before, usually when DFS came calling and he had to act like more of a father and less of a sperm donor, but it never lasted. He'd get pale and listless, stop eating and start pacing, mumbling about being parched. And like the earth, when he was parched, there was only one thing Frank needed.  
  
Fiona had been providing her father with alcohol since before she was old enough to really know what it was. She'd lied to store clerks, bargained with bartenders, put up with barflies' wandering hands, and begged on the street for money and someone to buy it when there were no other options. As soon as she'd started working, she'd always made sure there was a little money left out for Frank to steal, at least enough to get a few beers so he wouldn't have to go without. She hated it, often hated him for it, but when it came down to it, a Frank that was drinking was a lot easier to handle than a Frank that wasn't.  
  
But any more drinking would kill him. It was true, what she'd said to him in the hospital; she'd dreamt of his death, wished for it on every star and birthday candle once she realized that her wishes for him to change and be a real father were fruitless. And now she might very well be getting what she'd thought she'd wanted for so long.  
  
Except that it wasn't what she wanted. It was one thing to take the kids, to step in and get the official okay to keep doing what she'd always done, but that had been knowing that Frank was still there. He was her warning, her reminder of why she had to get up and go to work, why she couldn't just play the way other girls her age did. He was the cautionary story she held up to the kids, but through all of it, he was _there_. And even though they couldn't count on him for shelter or food or clothing or even so much as a hug goodnight, they'd always still had him there, a constant presence in their lives.  
  
Now Fiona thought about him being gone - really, truly, completely gone, and she felt... parched.


End file.
